


Take a Chance

by elleliteration



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Pool & Billiards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 17:12:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1752431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleliteration/pseuds/elleliteration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek just wants to shoot pool in peace, but someone just won't let him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Chance

Derek leaned over the table and lined up his shot, pulled the pool cue back and breathed out as he pushed the cue forward. Varnished wood slid smoothly between his fingers, hit the white cue ball with a crack, and sent it rolling into the triangle of multi colored balls. They scattered and two solid colored balls fled the field, dropped neatly into pockets. He lined up his next shot, pool stick hit cue ball, and another ball dropped into a corner pocket. It went that way until he’d sunk every single ball on the table except for the lone eight ball left in the corner of the table.

“Wow. You’re good. Like really good. Like, you should be in a tournament or something, good,” a voice popped up right behind Derek, breaking his quiet concentration.

Derek stood up straight, cue stick in hand, and turned to glare at whoever had decided to interrupt his game. There were a few reasons Derek didn’t play opponents, but this was the biggest. Other players liked to chatter, break his concentration, and get cozy with each other while Derek liked his peace and quiet.

“Do you mind?” Derek asked, staring down the young man as Derek gestured behind himself toward the last ball on the table. He was barely old enough to be allowed in this place, all bright eyed and jittery. If Derek didn’t know the kid was the Sherriff’s son and as straight laced as they came, Derek would have thought the kid was strung out on drugs.

Moles littered pale skin, but Derek only knew that because he’d seen a couple pictures around the Sherriff’s office a couple times when he’d been called in, and not because he could see well in the dimly lit corner of the bar. Dark eyes tracked Derek’s every move and dark hair cropped close shaded the kid’s head.

The bar was dark and a heavy cloud of smoke hovered below the ceiling across the entire room. There was a band playing on the opposite side and most of the crowd was on the dance floor and leaving Derek alone. Which made Derek wonder what exactly made this kid think it was a good idea to come bother Derek.

“Oh, yeah. Sure, sure. Sorry to interrupt. I was just hoping I could get in on the next game,” the kid said and backed up a couple steps to lean against the wall next to the rack of cue sticks, arms crossed over his chest.

“If you can keep quiet while I make my last shot, you can have the table,” Derek said and he started to turn back to the eight ball before the boy could offer a response.

“Oh, no, no, dude. I don’t want the table - well, I do - I want a game with you. We can make it interesting,” the kid said and stepped forward so he could lay a stack of 20s on the side of the table.

Derek sighed and really hoped this wasn’t going to be some failed attempt to hit on him. If he was lucky, the guy would just want to hustle him for some cash. It said a lot about Derek’s life that he would rather be hustled than hit on. It also said a lot that the hustlers were a lot more honest about what they wanted.

“Fine. Just be quiet,” Derek said and turned back to the table, determined to ignore the boy during his last shot.

~*~

Derek leaned against the end of the table and watched the boy - Stiles - scratch. Again. For someone who was trying to hustle money out of Derek, the kid was doing a really, REALLY bad job of actually sinking any balls. Derek was up $100 already and they were only on their third game. Derek lined up his shot, blocked out the chatter of Stiles asking the waitress for some curly fries and another drink, and sank the eight ball, earning himself another $50.

“Okay, okay. Just one more game, man. You gotta give me a chance to win back some of my money. Double or nothing. I win, I get some of my money back, but you’re still up some. You win, you get even more of my money. Whaddaya say?” Stiles said, practically begging, laying over the table toward Derek. “Come on.”

Derek looked at his watch and thought about it. It was almost midnight, but his shift didn’t start until later the next day. If he’d had an early shift, he’d be in trouble, but he could stay for one more game and humor the kid. Though Derek wasn’t sure why he was humoring the kid. There was something about him, the way he stretched to hit a difficult shot, his lithe body lying across the table. And for some reason, Derek didn’t mind the chatter quite so much.

“I’ve got time for one last game. Then that’s it,” Derek said as he grabbed his glass of Guinness off the small table closest to their pool table. “No more chances.”

Stiles beamed at Derek with such happiness that Derek had to fight an answering smile. “You won’t regret it,” Stiles said and then the waitress brought over his curly fries. A noise of such pure joy and pleasure escaped Stiles as he scarfed a couple rings.

Derek had to fight down a physical response to that kind of noise coming out of Stiles’ mouth. “I think I already do,” Derek muttered to himself and faced the wall to adjust his slowly hardening cock. “You can have first shot.”

Stiles beamed at Derek with a curly fry hanging out of his mouth. “Really? Are you sure? You have won the last three rounds,” Stiles said.

Derek shrugged and walked to the table, cue stick in hand and leaned over to line up the first shot. A few easy, practiced moves had the finished wood gliding over his thumb, fingers a light guide on the stick and the chalked tip crashing into white ball. The balls scattered across the green felt, but none sunk into the pockets, just bounced around the edges. It took practice to easily pocket the balls, but once you knew how, it took even more to purposely miss.

Stiles choked on a fry as he stumbled towards the table, wiping grease on his jeans as he reached for his pool cue. The cue ball was halfway across the table and instead of going at it from the side, Stiles lined up a shot from the end of the table toward a group of four balls at the other end, and had to lean halfway on the table to make the shot. But two balls, a solid and a striped ball each, sank into each of the corner pockets.

“Call it. Solids or stripes,” Derek said as he leaned against the table and took another swallow of his Guinness.

“Stripes,” Stiles answered and lined up another shot. Another ball sank into a pocket.

Derek almost wanted to laugh. He’d been played by Stiles for the first three games, and when he’d finally taken pity on the boy, Stiles actually stepped up his game and played to win. He’d actually been hustled. He wanted to kick himself. Which was nothing new.

Five more shots and five more balls sank into pockets, until there was only the eight ball left before Stiles won. Derek grumbled into his drink and peeled a hundred dollars off what he’d won from Stiles as the eight ball sank into the side pocket.

“Hey, now. Don’t be like that,” Stiles said as Derek slapped the money into his palm. “You’re still up fifty,” he said with a grin. “That’s enough to take me out to dinner.”

Derek blinked twice at the younger man. “You hustled me and now you’re hitting on me?” Derek asked, incredulous.

Stiles shrugged as he trip stepped back to Derek and Stiles’ fries. “Sure, I hustled you, but you still ended up with my money. So technically, it’d be me taking you out to dinner,” Stiles said as he grinned and leaned into Derek’s space.

Derek sighed and shook his head as he called the waitress over. When she reached their corner, Derek handed her two twenties and told her to keep the change. “There’s your dinner,” Derek said with a nod toward Stiles’ fries. “Have a nice night.”

“Whoa, whoa. Wait a second, man. I’m not kidding. The pool was just an excuse to talk to you,” Stiles said, putting a hand on Derek’s arm, stopping him from walking away.

“Hours of holding me up as an excuse to flirt? That’s a new one,” Derek grumbled, looking toward the door and then back at Stiles. “And I don’t particularly appreciate being lied to.”

“Sorry, sorry. I know there were probably better ways, but I couldn’t think of anything off the top of my head, and you looked like you were going to leave after you sank that last ball, so I did something stupid,” Stiles said, hanging his head a little and glancing at Derek through his lashes. “If you want truth, then here it is.” Stiles squared his shoulders and looked Derek straight in the eye. “I’d rather just skip the dinner and take you home.”

“I’m not interested,” Derek said, looking away from Stiles’ chocolate eyes.

“That didn’t stop you from checking out my ass almost every time I leaned over the table,” Stiles said with a smirk, ducked his head to try and catch Derek’s gaze again. “I know I definitely checked out yours. And if it means anything, I didn’t completely lose the first three games on purpose. I mean, I kinda did, but there was definitely some distraction going on, too.” Stiles smiled.

Derek’s eyes snapped to Stiles’ face again, a scowl on Derek’s face. “A physiological response-“

“Fine, fine. Don’t take me up on a night of amazing sex,” Stiles said, letting go of Derek’s arm and lifting both hands in the air. “But my offer still stands,” Stiles added and turned back to his curly fries.

~*~

Derek made it out to his car, but Stiles’ offer kept circling through Derek’s mind. He sat in the driver’s seat of his Camaro for a few minutes, weighing the pros and cons of sleeping with the sheriff’s son. On one hand, almost no one knew that Stiles was related to the new sheriff. Everyone knew that Sheriff Stilinski had moved to be closer to his son while the younger Stilinski attended college and worked a summer internship, but almost no one knew who the sheriff’s son was; not unless they’d been inside the sheriff’s office and seen the pictures on his desk. On the other hand, sleeping with the son of someone that could arrest you and make your life a general living hell was never a good idea.

“Are you waiting for me?” Stiles asked as he came up to Derek’s passenger side door and leaned down and into the window like a hooker trying to entice a john.

Derek looked at him and made up his mind. His finger flicked against the unlock button and nodded for Stiles to get into the car. “Definitely going to regret this,” Derek muttered while Stiles whooped and slid into the passenger seat.

“I really doubt that,” Stiles said and put a hand high on Derek’s thigh. “Your place or mine?” Stiles asked with a smirk.

“Yours.”

~*~

Derek groaned as he pressed up against Stiles’ back while Stiles fumbled with his keys, fingers shaking as he tried to slot the right key into the lock. He almost dropped them twice when Derek ground his hard cock up against Stiles’ ass. Stiles groaned when Derek got his mouth on Stiles’ neck, stopped fighting with the keys for half a second and just enjoyed the feel of teeth set against his neck, biting a mark against pale skin.

“Shit,” Stiles groaned and shoved back against Derek. “We’re gonna get arrested for indecent exposure if we keep going like this out here.”

Derek groaned and thumped his head against the door above Stiles’ shoulder. That was the last thing Derek needed. “Do you need help getting it in the hole?” he asked, his fingers trailing down Stiles’ arms to find the keys gripped in a fist.

Stiles groaned. “Just let me get this damn door open and then you can fuck me into the mattress. Please,” Stiles begged.

Derek stopped moving, stopped everything and waited for Stiles to unlock the door. “Three … Two … One,” Derek counted down while Stiles unlocked the door. The lock clicked and the door pushed open under their combined weight and Stiles pushed Derek against the door, closing it and locking it as he pressed their mouths together.

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders and when Derek got his hands under Stiles’ thighs, with a little hop, Stiles wrapped his thighs around Derek’s hips. Friction was one of the most beautiful things about science, but the constriction of his jeans was too much.

“Naked. Now,” Stiles said and moved to mouth at Derek’s neck.

“Good plan,” Derek said and navigated down the short hallway to the lone bedroom and deposited Stiles on the bed there.

Derek peeled his shirt off and then set a knee on the mattress and set to work on Stiles’ pants while Stiles set to work on his own shirt. With Stiles’ pants undone, Derek grabbed the sides and pulled, almost dragging Stiles off the bed with them, until Stiles flailed and grabbed the headboard, hanging on with all he’s got until Derek is tossing Stiles’ pants over his shoulder. Once Stiles didn’t have to hang onto the headboard to stay on the bed, he sat up and started working on Derek’s jeans.

Stiles groaned when he finally freed Derek’s cock from his jeans and Stiles practically slid to his knees to get his lips around the head. Which in turn, had Derek groaning, his fingers sliding through Stiles’ short hair.

“If you keep this up, you’ll have to wait for that fucking you wanted,” Derek groaned, tugging lightly on Stiles, trying to pull him off.

Stiles popped off Derek’s dick with a whimper. Stiles twisted to the bedside table and pulled out condoms and lube and tossed them on the bed and scrambled back onto the mattress. Stiles had lube on his fingers and started to work one into his ass while Derek rolled the condom onto his dick.

Condom in place, Derek pulled Stiles’ fingers from his ass, flipped him to his stomach, and replaced them with his own lubed up fingers. Derek leaned forward as he pumped two fingers in and out of Stiles’ ass and set his teeth against the meat of one rounded globe.

“Oh, shit fuck! Do that again,” Stiles demanded, pushing his ass back against Derek. “Please,” he begged, fingers clawing at his sheets.

Derek grinned against Stiles’ ass and added a third finger as he bit down on the other globe, leaving a slight imprint of his teeth in Stiles’ flesh.

“Unguh … just get your dick in me already,” Stiles begged, wiggling his hips in Derek’s face.

“So demanding,” Derek said with a grin and another nip to Stiles’ ass before he pulled away and lined his cock up with Stiles’ hole.

Stiles groaned as Derek slid in, slowly, inch by inch, filling Stiles, stretching him. “Fuck,” Stiles groaned when he felt Derek pressed as deep as he could go.

“As you wish,” Derek said and started moving. It was a fast pace, and Derek reached around to stroke Stiles in time with his thrusts.

“Unfffuck,” Stiles ground out as he braced his arm against the bed and pushed back to meet Derek’s thrusts and then back forward into the fist wrapped around Stiles’ cock.

“Come for me, Stiles,” Derek said, rubbing his thumb over the head of Stiles’ dick, playing with the slick precome beading there.

Stiles’ ass clenched around Derek’s cock, his orgasm building until it was a flash of white behind his eyelids, spilling out on the sheets below him with a shouted groan. Stiles slumped forward a bit, trying to meet Derek thrust for thrust despite the bone deep pleasure that was soaking Stiles’ brain and making him want to curl up and cuddle and caress.

With Stiles’ ass tight around Derek’s cock, the extra friction rushed his orgasm and he snapped his hips tight to Stiles’ ass for a heartbeat, then slowly pumping his hips to drag the pleasure out. Derek pulled out after a minute and tied off the condom, then got up and disappeared into the bathroom to dispose of it.

While he was gone, Stiles wiped off with the dirty sheet and then striped them off his bed and tossed them into the corner with his dirty laundry. He was just spreading out a comforter over the bed when Derek came back in with a wet washcloth and handed it over to Stiles.

“I should probably go,” Derek said, running a hand through his hair and looking around for his underwear. They should be here somewhere.

“You can stay. If you want,” Stiles said, wiping himself down with the washcloth before tossing it to the corner with the sheets before lying out on top of the comforter, not bothering with clothes.

“I-“

“It’s late and you did have a few drinks. Driving tired and slightly buzzed can’t be good. And the later it is, the more likely you are to get pulled over,” Stiles said, interrupting any argument that Derek may have presented.

“Fine,” Derek grumbled and stretched out next to Stiles. Next thing Derek knew, Stiles had curled up against Derek’s side and they drifted to sleep.

~*~

Stiles woke to an empty bed and an ache that made him smile. He got up, made breakfast for himself and lunch for his father and headed straight to the precinct to take his father lunch with a slight hitch in his step, but smile still firmly in place.

“Hey-o, daddy-o,” Stiles said, striding into his father’s office and came to a screeching halt when he saw his father was in a meeting. “Holy shit,” Stiles yelped when he saw just who it was that his father was in a meeting with. And what he was wearing.

“Stiles, have you met Deputy Hale yet?” The sheriff asked as Derek turned to face the door.

“Uh, I – I, um-“

“We actually met last night,” Derek said with a grin.

“You did?” the sheriff asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, sir. I was actually coming to ask for your permission to date your son,” Derek said, turning back to the sheriff.

Stiles stared, mouth agape as his father started laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://elleliteration.tumblr.com/) where you can ask questions. Fair warning, I'm on a bit of a break, but I'll pop on to answer questions.


End file.
